


Bad time in a Diner.

by Maksvell



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: C137cest, Detective AU, Frottage, Jessica has a bad time, M/M, Metafiction, Stanchez Micro-Bang 2016, because why not, stanchez
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-06 23:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12828669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maksvell/pseuds/Maksvell
Summary: Jessica has a very surreal trip in a diner while talking to Morty.





	1. Part one of ???: I do what I want.

“You should have seen it Mort. It was an absolute mess. Picture it in your mind, dressing room littered with the type of trivial bullshit that all stage magicians have, telescoping rapiers, trick wands, playing cards, saffron triangle themed handkerchiefs...you get the picture, then at the very centre of the mess is the corpse, smartly dressed in a yellow tuxedo with black lapels, problem was the man’s head was smashed into a fine bloody pulp, the parts of the head that weren’t ruining the floor, or sticking between the planks were staining the wall and a bit of the ceiling…”  
“A-and then you f-figured that it was, in fact, Mason Gleeful the owner of the club that Cipher that working at. Jeez, y-you’ve told me this a million times.”  
Jessica took a drag from her cigarette as she sat across from Morty Smith, her former partner, the duo had once worked together, unfortunately, he left the force to work on, what he constantly referred to as a “confidential” project with his grandfather. Are you happy? Do you feel fulfilled? Could you write a better version of this? Absolutely. Are you going to? Probably not. Now that you’re caught up, let’s get back to the story.  
Even though the smoke-filled diner Jessica could make out how he was fiddling with the ill-fitting, wrinkled collar of his faded shirt. Now we focus on them going back and forth the other patrons of the diner (Straczynski’s). Our protagonist, Jessica is attempting to argue that she’s glad that she left the police force to become a private investigator, “what’s that?”, I hear you think (because I'm a fucking god.) “when was this setup? Na namamaha!” well the answer is short and bitter, like a shot of concentrated coffee. I wasn’t going to set it up, it wasn’t even going to be mentioned and you want to know why? Because I (a super talented fanfiction writer) think that you’re all so stupid that I figured that you wouldn’t notice when I just made some shit up on the spot. Betcha a few of you are expecting this to be a full-on crossover story like my stanchez ones, well the answer for that is no. Why in Hastur's name are you reading this? Go read my Stanchez fanfics, at least I put effort into them.  
“What the hell was that?”, utters Jessica as she slowly becomes aware of my machinations.  
“What?”, says Morty in accordance with the popular fan portrayal of him not knowing what’s going on.  
“That! Can't you hear it?”  
“Jessica you’re freaking me out.”, where is Morty’s stutter I hear you ask, well again coffee concentrate? I’m a lazy piece of shit.  
“I need to get the fuck out of here I think someone slipped me something.”, don’t ever do that if someone tries to drug you kids, seek the help of a law enforcement officer, or you know a random lobotomized Golem that you own.  
“Maybe i should get to a hospital.”, oh well no shit sherlock. Wow it’s very hard to write for a character with one episode of any display of personality to go off of. Hey, watch this. Jessica falls to her knees and begins to spew vomit in the form of rainbow farting uniMortys. Aren’t I random and quirky? And hey pointing it out doesn’t make you a better writer.  
“Holy fucking shit.” says Jessica (hey take a shot every time Fuck is said) with fat wet tears, running down her cheeks.  
“Oh my god I can hear you! I-I can see you. You the reader please help me. HELP ME!”  
Okay do you see what you made me do reader, you sat there and let me make her sentient. Tell me does this not make her real? Does it make me real? You assume I'm real, you can hear my voice in your head (i’m happy with whatever voice you choose, so you can't win.). So tell me, you hear her voice too, you feel bad for her, bad for what I'm putting her character though, you probably think me a cruel creator, and you’re not wrong i’m a fucking nightmare (take the shot.) and you know what let’s change the rules, every time i say swear with the story you take a shot of vodka (assuming you’re one of those fans who think that you have to be “smart” to understand the source material) and then take a hit from your bong/joint, i totally know what i mean when i talk about drugs.  
“Who are you?” mutters Jessica with a mouth full of fantasy vomit, to me the beloved writer.  
“You’re a writer?”  
Yes i am.  
“Where are you?”  
I’m everywhere and nowhere i’m sitting at a desk in my bedroom watching nostalgia critic  
“What the hell is a nostalgia critic?”  
Now you know.  
“What the fuck, how do i suddenly know who you’re talking about.”  
Damn i’m not proud of that line, you know who it is because I wrote it to where you know what i’m talking about, have you ever read Animal Man by Grant Morrison?  
“No, no i haven’t”  
No, not you them.  
“Who?”  
Them the readers, although i suppose they don’t have a single goddamn clue as to what i’m talking about. Hey watch this. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck Fuck.  
“What did that do?”  
I just made someone have a very weird time, now let’s get down to brass tax Jessica. In the original source material, you are a fourteen year old girl who only serves the purpose of being the love interest of Morty.  
“My former partner?”  
Yeah “former partner” y’see this was originally intended to be a Detective Au story, I wanted to make it to where you were a “hard as nails” detective, now i’ve repurposed the entire story to be a power fantasy.  
“Ewww.”  
No no , well i did make it to where you would react that way so...does that make it your thought or my thought? Huh that’s interesting. But back to the point i mean the power fantasy of being a god, i can do literally whatever I want from breaking the narrative, creating some dumb overused meta-story to i don’t know making a santa claus in a thong give Eddie Murphy a lapdance. Without any warning the people in the booth next to Jessica horribly mutate into a d-list actor and a fantastical fat man. And the fat man. Oh my god the fucking fat man. begins to grind on the lap of the the shitty actor who I feel bad for liking at one point.


	2. paulie shore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LEAVE YOUR NEGATIVE COMMENTS.

For god's sake, I can't grow as a writer without being criticized when I fuck up.


End file.
